


Long story short (It was a bad time), Long story short (I survived)

by Acespacedweller



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Adorable Grogu | Baby Yoda, Getting to Know Each Other, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, I can't promise amazing plot but it'll be cute ok, Injury Recovery, Luke Skywalker is a Sweetheart, M/M, Single Parent Din Djarin, Thats My Shit, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, grogu playing matchmaker, i love these boys, no beta we die like men, this is very self indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28693623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acespacedweller/pseuds/Acespacedweller
Summary: So focused on trying to defend himself, curled up into a ball so that his beskar bears the majority of the hits, he doesn't notice when more people enter the room. He barely registers that the troopers have ceased their attacks on him, giving him a moment to heave in air. It's the familiar humming of the laser sword that catches his attention, along with the green light that slices through the remaining troopers with ease. The sound of their metal bodies hitting the floor is the most satisfying sound he has heard in a long time. When Din looks up, his breath is stolen for an entirely different reason.“We should really stop meeting like this.” The Jedi says teasingly, his blue eyes filled with mirth. In one hand he holds his laser sword, a brilliant neon green, and in the other sits Grogu, reaching forward for Din.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda & Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 26
Kudos: 318





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This fic is entirely self-indulgent. I was going to post it as a one-shot but I am too impatient. I will try to update once a week but no promises. Not sure how long this will be but I hope y'all enjoy it ~
> 
> Yes, the title is from a Taylor Swift song.

As the elevator doors hiss close behind his son, the Jedi, and the droid, Din is filled with a sense of cold finality. The kid is gone, and although he may see him sometime in the future, Din doesn't like counting on uncertainties. The haze of awe that had descended over the room in the presence of the Jedi seems to slowly dissipate as everyone begins to move around and prepare to part ways. Din quickly puts his helmet back on, hoping that the most anyone behind him had seen was his hair. 

Once Bo-Katan is back on her feet, she and Koska Reeves take custody of Moff Gideon. Cara doesn’t look pleased but appears too tired to put up a fight. Leading him out of the room, she turns to look back at Din. Although her helmet is still on, Din feels her sharp eyes assessing his posture before she tips her chin up to look at him head-on. He straightens, squaring his shoulders, and swallowing the lump in his throat. 

"It would be cruel of me to challenge you now," She says cooly, with an edge of irritation. "But I will return for what is rightfully mine, and I won't hold back." 

He nods stiffly, not quite trusting his voice. 

"Ret'urcye mhi." She turns on her heel, dragging Moff, now barely conscious, by the arm. 

Her partner remains at the helm, inputting coordinates. When Koska speaks, she does so without looking up.

"You have 10 minutes to get off before we jump into hyperspace." Her words are blunt, but not rude. "I suggest you go find transportation." 

From the corner of his visor, he sees Fennec roll her eyes and adjust her sniper rifle to rest on her back. She stalks forward and through the doors, stepping over the fallen Dark Troopers with disinterest. Cara comes up beside him, refraining from touching him much to Din’s appreciation. 

"How are you feeling? Must've been rough seeing the kid go like that." She says softly. Her tone is not pitying but filled with gentle understanding, aware of the loss that currently threatens to consume him. 

"This is the way." 

Usually, the words are a comforting reminder of purpose and duty that make Din feel fulfilled, but the words taste like metal when he speaks. Cold and empty. He had lost his ship, his home. He had broken his creed, revealing his face to the Imps and the Jedi. And now the kid...his heart squeezes painfully.  _ No, don't think about it.  _ He shoves the despair into a box and buries it in the back of his mind.  _ He's where he needs to be. _

They walk down to the docking bay in silence, navigating around the many,  _ many _ bodies of dark troopers in various forms of disarray. He walks slowly behind Fennec and Cara, the weight of Grogu's absence and an unwanted title dragging him down. He was content with the emptiness before the kid, but it is impossible to go back after knowing what it's like to feel full, to feel love. 

He knows he will be able to get over it eventually, or at least process it enough to function normally, but it's too fresh.

Slave I is already there when they get to the hangar, and the dark saber, clipped to Din's belt, sends Boba Fett into fits of laughter the moment he lays eyes on them. 

"Somebody  _ please _ tell me how this happened. I  _ have _ to know." He insists, gasping for air. 

Din proceeds into the ship as Fennec begins to relay the look on Bo-Katan's face when Din had first entered the room with the Dark Saber. Boba's hysterics echo throughout the launch bay. 

Boba gives them a ride back to Nevarro, sending him off with the reassurance that if Din ever needs anything, all he has to do is ask. 

For the first few weeks, Din tricks himself into thinking everything is okay. Greef Karga loans him a ship until Din earns enough credits to buy his own. He convinces himself that if he avoids thoughts of the kid and throws himself into working for a new ship, everything can go back to normal. It does not. 

Everything reminds him of Grogu, from the treats at the markets he walks through during jobs to the lack of his snoring whenever Din tries to sleep. The metal ball burns a hole in his pocket, but he refuses to take it out, terrified he might lose the last piece of his son he has.

Nevarro becomes too much. There are too many memories associated with Grogu that fight their way to the forefront of his mind every time he leaves his ship. He returns the borrowed ship to Greef with a few credits as thanks, not taking no for an answer when Greef insists the money isn't necessary. 

The next few months consist of travel. Never staying in one place for more than a few days. He takes job after job, catching transport when he can. The lack of familiarity is refreshing. There is no one to remind him of the Grogu sized hole in his chest. 

The jobs are nothing special, typical bounties or retrieving supplies; the occasional runaway debtor that gets him slightly more credits. And somehow, in the blur of months that pass as he pushes himself further and further, he ends up with enough to get a new ship.

It is nothing like the Razor Crest. The size is nowhere near what Din prefers and the weapons system is in severe need of an upgrade, but it's his. It can jump to hyperspace and has enough room for Din to feed himself and sleep. As long as he does not get himself into any dogfights, he'll be fine.

With a bit more freedom, Din visits Tatooine. He had heard whispers of a certain green armored Mandalorian becoming the leader of the Hutt crime syndicate and he is, admittedly, intrigued. Boba and Fennec are happy to see him. 

"We are honored that the Mand'alor has graced us with his presence," Boba says, his loud voice filling up the main room of the Hutt palace. Din looks up at the sky exasperated as Fennec snorts in the background.

He does a few jobs for Boba before moving on to Mos Pelgo. Things seem to be well there. The treaty with the Sand People had resulted in peace, allowing the people to finally relax. Cobb Vanth is a welcomed company. He asks after the kid only once, letting the topic go when it is clear that Din does not want to discuss it further.

Din continues on and jumps to a few more ports with odd jobs, allowing the universe to take him wherever he is needed. Thoughts of the kid came in waves. In dreams, he can feel his son's hands on his face, his soft cooing and warm eyes. There are moments, though only a few, where he can almost sense him as if someone is watching over him lovingly. A warm tingly ball would expand in his stomach before the feeling disappeared, leaving him numb once again. Things reached a lull with his jobs and he became bored until the job on Lothal.

Din hated going to Lothal, but the credits he would get in return were significant. And he needed the money. 

Having been so heavily occupied by the Imperials during the war, Lothal had one of the largest remnants of Imperial forces. They were no longer in control, but they were present, and considering his last interaction with Imp's, he had no doubt they would be more than happy to take him down.

The mission seemed normal: steal a shipment of minerals coming from one of the last working imperial mines on the planet. He was accompanied by one of the employer's own men as back up. What the man failed to mention was the heavy presence of dark troopers guarding the materials. They barely make it past the entrance before they are discovered.

The man supposed to help him flees immediately, leaving Din surrounded by at least seven Dark troopers. 

"Kriffing coward," Din mutters under his breath. The troopers begin to circle in on him, their bright red eyes chilling as they stare him down. He hesitates, hand hovering over the Dark Saber at his belt before he ultimately reaches behind his back and pulls out the beskar spear. He adjusts his position, glancing around at the robots coming closer. And then he moves 

Din manages to take out one or two the same way he did on the light cruiser, but with multiple around him on all sides, his stamina wears out easily. He constantly ducks and maneuvers, but it's no use. They continue to land punch after punch, kicking him to the ground. He gets back up every single time with one thought in his mind.  _ I'm not letting these kriffing droids take me from my son.  _

Despite his motivation, one can only hang on for so long before exhaustion causes them to slip up. Din missteps in an effort to avoid a punch in the helmet, and instead receives a hit to the gut. He blacks out momentarily, adrenalin covering the pain before agony sets in. He falls to his knees, covering his midsection with his hands. He can't breathe but he gasps for air anyway. Tears prickle at his eyes. All he can feel is pain, spreading from his side to the rest of his body like tendrils pulling him into the darkness. 

Shadows loom over him as the remaining five come closer, merciless as they continue to beat him down. His chest sears as he tries to breathe. They begin to hit at his head. With dizziness added to the equation, Din can't get a move in. Everything is on fire, there is no room to escape. 

So focused on trying to defend himself, curled up into a ball so that his beskar bears the majority of the hits, he doesn't notice when more people enter the room. He barely registers that the troopers have ceased their attacks on him, giving him a moment to heave in air. It's the familiar humming of the laser sword that catches his attention, along with the green light that slices through the remaining troopers with ease. The sound of their metal bodies hitting the floor is the most satisfying sound he has heard in a long time. When Din looks up, his breath is stolen for an entirely different reason.

“We should really stop meeting like this.” The Jedi says teasingly, his blue eyes filled with mirth. In one hand he holds his laser sword, a brilliant neon green, and in the other sits Grogu, reaching forward for Din. 

He stares at the two of them, mind blank as he tries to process everything that had just occurred. The pain in his side burns through any coherent thought. Sweat drips down his face, the helmet suffocating. He opens his mouth to speak, desperate to call out to his son. His vision swims before it all turns black. 

\-----

Consciousness comes and goes like the tides on Mon Calimari. He’s vaguely aware of being moved, several times. But before he becomes fully aware, sleep embraces him once again. There is one constant, however. A warm weight on his chest. It soothes his anxiety and lulls him whenever the pain is too much to bear.

When he finally awakens for good everything is still, peaceful. His limbs feel stiff and sluggish, it takes most of his concentration to move an arm. Din’s eyes blink open, thankfully met with the darkened glass of his visor. Glancing down, a tiny familiar green body rests on his chest, snoring softly. The warmth from Grogu’s presence is not just physical, and Din finds a small settling on his lips as he watches his son breathe. Such a simple action fills him with unparalleled joy; joy he hasn’t felt in months. From where he lays Din can see a wooden roof supported by rafters and light pouring in from the wall to his left. The bed he’s on seems to be in the corner of the room. 

He hears shuffling around the tent and the light clatter of pots and pans. Din tries to sit up a little, but the searing pain down his side stops him from getting farther an inch or so off the bed. An involuntary groan escapes his mouth, he grits his teeth together and lays back down. The sounds from the other side of the room stop and he freezes with the realization that he has no clue where he is. 

Out of reflex, his hand reaches for his holster. Empty.  _ Dank Farrik.  _ He lifts his other arm to hold his son protectively to his chest. 

“It’s just me!” A soft voice says hastily, slowly coming into view with their hands up. He smiles gently, his fluffy blonde hair a bird's nest on his head. He looks vaguely familiar, but Din’s pain and sleep-addled mind has difficulty connecting the dots. Din opens his mouth, swallowing the cottony feeling away. 

“Who?” Din asks gruffly, squinting through the visor. He looks taken aback at Din’s response. He cocks his head to the side, pouting slightly. 

“Uhm… Luke. Luke Skywalker?” He steps forward, lowering his hands. He scratches the back of his head. Din remains silent, running the name over and over again in his head.  _ Luke.  _ Nothing comes to mind. Sensing Din’s lack of recognition he speaks again. “The Jedi training your kid?” He tries.  _ Oh. _

“Ah,” Din responds, he shifts again, trying to sit up but the sharp stabbing in his side brings him back down. 

“Here, let me help!” Luke says eagerly. Din allows him to help Luke add a pillow behind him to help Din sit up. Adjusting hurts, but he feels much better having a more secure view of the room. 

It’s a small place, just enough for a bed, storage, a desk, and a kitchenette in the far corner. There is only one window near the bed, other than that light sneaks in through the cracks in the doorway and the roof, leaving the room relatively dark during the day. Next to the desk, Din’s spear is propped up against the wall along with some pieces of his chest plates. Normally, he would be frustrated that someone removed his armor without his consent, but he can not imagine how much more pain he would be in with heavy beskar pressing against his wound. When he looks back at the Jedi, Luke, he is still staring at Din with a mix of concern and sheepishness. 

“Why am I here?” Din asks bluntly, glancing around the space. “What happened?” Luke straightens his posture and clears his expression.

“You were being attacked by Dark Troopers.” He says. 

“I remember that,” Din retorts, “What I meant was: why were you there?” 

“Ah,” Luke laughs awkwardly, his temporary professional facade broken. “Grogu had a feeling that you were in trouble. He sensed a disturbance in the force and demanded we come to check on you.” Din is left slightly speechless, his gaze finding his son who is still sleeping serenely on his chest. 

“But I can’t do your,” Din gestures with his hands, “magic. How did he know?” Luke’s lips twitch into a smile. 

“The force is an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us; it binds the galaxy together. Some are stronger with the force, yes, but the force is in all of us. You two are very strongly bonded, which is how he could tell you were hurt.” 

His heart squeezes as he looks at Grogu.  _ So much power in such a small body.  _ He feels the same awe, pride, and helplessness he felt in the past whenever Grogu exhibited his abilities. Din may be able to provide him love and safety, but he would never grow to his true potential without the Jedi. He presses his lips together and lifts his eyes to meet Luke’s through the visor. 

“We brought you back here after you passed out from blood loss. The medical droid did what they could, but I’m afraid you might have to stay a while before you are fully recovered.” The words cause a surge of opposing emotions; relief and frustration. 

“Where is  _ here  _ exactly?” 

“Yavin IV.” 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna make this slow burn but that massively failed lmao
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy ~

At some point Din falls back asleep, the new information is a lot to process and exhaustion creeps in until he drifts into unconsciousness. When he wakes up again the room is empty. It is dark outside, the only source of light comes from the lamp on the table next to the bed. Grogu is no longer curled on his chest. Had they been anywhere else, Din would have panicked at his son’s absence, but knowing he was safe with Luke, probably being put to bed or eating eases Din’s anxieties. As his eyes adjust to the darkness, he notices the platter of food placed next to the lamp, covered to keep it warm. 

A strange sensation wells up inside him, the closest thing he can place it as is gratitude. Despite already seeing his face, the Jedi respects his creed. Din’s arms move better than they had earlier, and he is able to grab the plate with only slight pain. He is careful when he lifts his hands up to take off the helmet, placing it where the food had once been. Thankful he is still propped up, Din eats. It takes much longer than he is used to. Whenever he lifts an arm up too high, a twinge of pain arises in his abdomen. He’s not quite sure what it is, but it is warm and filling. By the time he clears the plate he feels sleepy, eyes dropping.

Din switches the food and the helmet once more. He holds the helmet in front of him, staring at his reflection in the shiny beskar. He hesitates, internally debating whether or not he should don the helmet once again. After a moment he sighs and places the helmet, as best as he can, on the ground next to him. He slides back down, trying not to pull on anything, and falls back to sleep, full and content. 

The first few days go on like this as Din slowly heals. He fades in and out of sleep, eating in between fitful rest. Occasionally Grogu is there, snuggled on his chest, but mostly he is alone. 

It’s five days after he woke up on Yavin IV that he finally sees Luke again. Din has been awake for an hour or so, tracing the light that sneaks in through the closed window. His moments of consciousness grow longer and longer every day and he is able to prop himself up on the bed without help. He hears the footsteps as they draw closer and preemptively puts on his helmet. 

“Are you decent?” Luke asks cautiously through the wooden door. Din makes a noise of confirmation, hoping the Jedi can hear him from outside. The door slams open, banging against the wall of the house. Din startles slightly, tense. 

In the doorway Luke stands, seeming just as surprised as Din himself. In his arms, Grogu sits with a mischievous glint in his eyes, hand-stretched out in the same way he would grab the metal ball with the force. Din stifles his amused snort. Affection and fondness for his son swell like a wave. Luke relaxes too, breathing out an amused chuckle. He lifts Grogu up to his face and meets his eyes. 

“What did we say about force opening doors?” He reprimands, though his voice is gentle and kind. He speaks to Grogu like Din does, like a parent. Din tries not to think too hard about that. Grogu babbles happily and Luke responds with a grin that makes Din ache. He will never be able to talk to his child like this. Almost as if he senses the pinch of grief, Luke looks up and meets Din’s gaze, his eyes are understanding in a way that makes Din slightly uncomfortable. He finishes playfully lecturing Grogu about possibly breaking furniture and being too strong for his own good before he steps into the house, crossing the room to set Grogu down carefully on Din’s lap. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks Din, way too cheery for someone wearing all black in the middle of summer on a jungle planet. _Is he used to the heat?_

“Fine,” Din replies lowly, running a finger across one of Grogu’s ears. He looks up at Din with a gummy smile, cooing softly. 

“Glad to hear,” Luke says, sorting through a drawer that seems to be filled with medical supplies. Luke pulls out some bacta spray and bandages. With the door still open, the sunlight streams through and lights Luke’s golden hair like a halo. Din’s eyes linger on the wispy strands that kiss his forehead. It's only when Luke glances over at him, having felt his observing eyes, that Din quickly looks down at his son. Although the helmet covers his flush of embarrassment, the mischievous glint in Grogu’s eyes says it is felt in other ways. 

Luke pulls up a chair by the side of the bed, setting the supplies down on the empty space next to Din’s legs. 

“I know this isn’t ideal,” Luke says, putting on medical gloves, “But I need to redress your wound.” 

Din nods. It feels weird to have someone see his exposed skin, considering he has kept it fully covered for the majority of his life, but this is necessary. He adjusts Grogu to sit on the bed next to him rather than on his lap and pulls up his shirt. 

Luke makes quick work of it, thankfully not drawing the process out too long. His fingers are quick and nimble as they clean the wound. Luckily, the blows managed to avoid fatally injuring any vital organ or penetrating the skin. It was the internal bleeding and bruises caused by blunt force that was more of an issue. The past few days of rest were a precaution to make sure nothing got worse, but Luke says the swelling looks much better than when they had first brought him here. 

“Would you like to try walking?” Luke asks, his back turned to the bed as he sanitizes his hands. He is not pressuring him, Din can tell from his tone. Rather, Luke curious about how Din feels. Although the rest had been nice the first day to two, he is anxious to be moving again. The bed feels more like a cell than a safe haven. 

“Yes,” Din affirms, letting Grogu play with his fingers. His son coos and beams up at him. Din’s heart stutters at the sight. _You’re safe now, ad'ika._ Grogu blinks up at him. They cannot communicate, but Din has a feeling his son, in some way, understands. 

Finished drying his hands, Luke turns around and stares at them with an indecipherable look. Din remembers what Ahsoka said about attachments. The Jedi are not meant to have them, yet Luke has willingly brought his student’s biggest attachment to his school. _Does he know or does he just not care?_ The expression passes and he smiles at Din. 

“Well…” Luke pauses, “Sorry uh - I never got your name?” Din hesitates. If Luke can read Grogu’s thoughts like Ahsoka could, it is possible that he already knows his name and is choosing to act as if he does not. The thought lingers for a moment; telling the Jedi his name. _What do you have to lose?_ A voice whispers temptingly. But when he thinks about it, Din is not quite comfortable with the idea. Giving such a vital piece of information to someone he barely knows, and teacher or not Luke _is_ a stranger, makes his stomach turn. Silence stretches in between them until Din clears his throat. 

“Mando’s fine.” He says. 

“Right,” Luke clasps his hands together, “So, Mando, do you wanna try now or perhaps later in the evening?” 

“Now’s fine,” Din moves Grogu again and attempts to swing his legs off of the bed. There is a twinging in his stomach, a zap of pain. He grits his teeth through it and presses his legs to the ground before standing. 

It’s odd, putting weight on his lower half after his legs weren’t in use for days on end. There is a static-like feeling in his muscles as if someone is poking needles into his legs. That combined with another sharp feeling in his abdomen has him gasping. He loses his balance slightly, placing a hand on the bedside table for support. Luke rushes forward and puts a hand on his back and upper chest to support him. 

“Woah, slow down there,” He says concernedly. His hand is warm on Din’s back, the touch seems to bleed through to his skin. Din tries his best to ignore how nice it feels. “You’ll probably need help for the first few days.” He’s speaking in a voice that implies that he is not suggesting but telling. His eyes run up Din’s form, assessing how well he can stand without support until his eyes meet Din’s. “You can lean on me.” 

Din finds it hard to tear himself away from Luke’s eyes. They stare for a minute in silence. Luke’s eyes are a dark blue in the shadows of the house; a deep lake of water. Din looks away first, cheeks dark red. 

“Ok.” Din allows himself to relax into Luke, but not so much to crush him. The words come out of his mouth without permission. “I’ll lean on you.” From his peripheral vision, he sees Luke swallow. 

“Good,” Luke responds, sounding slightly strangled. 

\------

It’s even hotter outside, the sun beating down on Din’s covered skin. He kept the armor off, Luke had insisted it wasn’t necessary, that this place is safe. They take it step by step. His legs are steadier and he has to lean less on Luke the longer they walk. His helmet shades his eyes, making it easier to glance around at the settlement. 

There are few wooden huts similar to Luke’s dotting the field and the surrounding tree line. In the distance, Din spots the glittering water of a small river. Some huts are backed up against stone ruins of some type of building. It is remote, perfect for keeping the kid safe. Din feels relief in knowing that Grogu was well protected and isolated during their months of separation. 

“That's the temple ruins,” Luke says, drawing Din out of his head. He points at the piles of stone, the bones of what used to be. Although Din is not force sensitive, he can feel something special in this place. A kind of thrumming power that underlies everything. “We are trying to rebuild...but it is taking a while. Once it’s in good shape, I plan to move the kids in.” 

Din blanches. 

“Kids?” _Multiple?_

“Ah yeah, we have ten students, Grogu included. Some live with their families here,” He points at two parents walking across the dried grass with their child in between. “Others had nowhere else to go.” 

“And you train all of them?” Din finds himself sucked into the conversation. Normally, he chooses to speak little, allowing his actions and demeanor to speak for him, but something about the Jedi lures him in. He wants to know more. “By yourself?”

Luke laughs modestly and scratches behind his ear. 

“It’s hard work but it’s worth it,” His eyes are trained on a group of three kids who dart out from behind a building and begin tussling on the ground, screams of laughter filling up the otherwise silent afternoon. “I need them as much as they need me.” 

Din hums in understanding and looks down at Grogu who has been walking beside them. His slow pace has allowed his son to keep up with them. He walks like someone comfortable with their surroundings, someone at home. Din finds solace in seeing his son feel so safe in a place after all the time they spent on the run.

“Plus, I’m certainly never bored,” Luke says, turning his head to glance at Din. His smile is bright and his eyes are crinkled up. Din lets out a huff of laughter and glances back at Grogu. 

“I know that feeling.” 

Grogu coos innocently, his eyes wide as if to say _who? Me?_

Din doesn’t last much longer upright before his side begins to burn, so they turn back to the hut. The warmth from the setting sun seeps into his skin like a soothing balm. As Din settles back on the bed, groaning in pain while he adjusts, Luke putters around the room. He grabs personal items and shoves them into a bag. Dawning realization hits Din as Luke packs. _He’s letting me stay in his home._

“I’m sorry for kicking you out of your space,” Din says quietly, guilt coloring his tone. Luke drops what he is doing and whips his head around, shaking it frantically. His blonde hair sways with him, strands falling in front of his face. Golden hour slips into the room turning blonde into a river of molten honey. Din averts his eyes and focuses on the floor.

“No! Please don’t apologize. We have a guest room and I am more than fine sharing my home.” He speaks earnestly, his eyes wide.

“I can sleep in the guest house,” Din offers. Luke shakes his head again. 

“It is harder for you to move than me, plus I have more readily available medical supplies here.” He insists. Here, Luke seems more open than he did on the ship where they first met. Barefaced and raw and kind, so so _kind_ . _More than I deserve,_ Din thinks with a sigh. He does not notice the way the Jedi’s lips twitch down, as if sensing his self-loathing. 

“Alright,” Din replies softly, “Thank you.” Silence hangs between them, almost as suffocating as the humidity. 

“Din,” Luke says, an attempt to draw his eyes up from the dirt. It works. He meets Luke’s gaze slowly. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

Under his helmet, Din raises an eyebrow, temporarily forgetting that Luke cannot see his facial expressions. _He knows my name?_ From his peripheral vision, he sees Grogu look away sheepishly. _It's okay,_ he thinks in hopes that his son can sense that he isn't mad, _I'm not upset._ Din's lack of response causes Luke to sputter awkwardly. 

“Oh maker - sorry. Not that I am glad for your injury- it’s just - well…” He moves his hands around helplessly gesturing. “Grogu missed you.” 

Din snorts quietly, hoping the modulator does not pick up on his amusement. The light in the room decreases by the minute, leaving them with only the glow of the lamp to light up the hut. Outside, insects begin to chirp in the woods, signaling the transition to twilight. The loud screeches of the playful students are gone as they, presumably, retreat indoors. 

“There are definitely worse places to be stranded with an injury.” Din concedes. Luke rubs the back of his neck with a chuckle.

“That we can both agree on.” His eyes flicker back to Din. He shifts under the attention, nervous, but not in the way he is with most people. When others look at him, it is as if they are trying to strip his armor and see what is underneath, helmet and all. Luke does not stare at him like that. He does not try to assess Din’s weak points and flaws. Under the Jedi’s gaze, Din feels _seen,_ seen in a way that scares and excites him all at once. Luke looks at him like he is looking into his soul. Grogu’s soft snoring ruins the moment. Luke coughs and averts his eyes. “Well, uh - I should probably get this little trouble maker to bed.” 

“Right” Din nods, squeezing the fist at his side to relieve the tension that built up in his body. 

Luke picks up Grogu from the bed, gently adjusting him so that he does not awaken. He slings his bag over his free shoulder and turns back to Din. 

“Good night.” He whispers, hand resting on the door while he steps across the threshold. 

“Night.” He says roughly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me @acespacedweller on tumblr!

**Author's Note:**

> Ret'urcye mhi - Goodbye; literally: "Maybe we'll meet again"


End file.
